Easter Hunt
by NZ-Juxtapose
Summary: A little boy of four or five tugged at his daddy’s robes insistently, his big silver grey eyes lighting up with such hope. “Father, may I go look for the eggs with the others, please? Oh please?”


Easter Hunt

A little boy of four or five tugged at his daddy's robes insistently, his big silver grey eyes lighting up with such hope. "Father, may I go look for the eggs with the others, please? Oh please?"

His daddy crouched down beside his only child, his lips pursed as if he was thinking long and hard for an answer. Barely controlling his laughter, he watched as his boy hopped from one foot to the other in his over excitement.

Curling one hand around a pale cheek, Draco smiled warmly before whispering in his ear that he could go play with the other children.

The grin that spread over that little face broke Draco's heart all over again. The boy threw his arms around his father to squeeze him with all his might.

"Thank you Daddy. I promise I'll save you one."

Draco just grinned and ruffled his pale blond hair before his son took off across the lawn to search for the hidden Easter eggs. One tiny hand combed his errant locks back into place. He was indeed a Malfoy; not a hair out of place.

Draco grew sad at the thought of the lonely life that lay ahead for his only heir.

This was the first time since his own father's death that Malfoy Manor had played host to such a function. The manor was no stranger to huge lavish parties but when Lucius was king, the guests were of an entirely different calibre. Draco preferred this Ministry sponsored event to any his father had presided over.

His wife was not so fond of such people traipsing over her prized gardens but the opportunity to preen to the other wives was not something Pansy would ever give up lightly. She let him have his way when it came to guests, as long as she had control over the catering. Draco conceded and let her loose with his money. Even the hundreds of Easter eggs hidden around the vast grounds were handmade in Belgium with personal greetings inscribed in white chocolate. Pansy had always insisted on the best of everything. He had a manor full of expensive junk to attest to that.

Struggling with his uncooperative right leg, it took Draco a minute to get the resistance he needed to hoist himself upright, grinding the end of his father's cane into the soft earth as a means of support. An arm suddenly clutched at his forearm, helping him to his feet.

Flicking at a few strands of hair that had blown into his face, Draco turned to his rescuer only to stop, his mouth snapping shut.

Weasley was standing there in dark green robes and a smirk. He snatched his hand back from Draco's elbow when the blond squirmed in his grip.

Still, it's Ron who responded first by nodding at the staff under Draco's fist. "I recognize this?"

"Yes," Draco returned, his tone brusque. Of all those he'd crossed paths with since Hogwarts, Ron Weasley was the one he never expected to see ever again and especially not on his own property. He'd heard through Arthur of his son's exploits overseas but recently no information had been forthcoming and he'd been loath to pry.

Draco spun the staff under his fingers, the end drilling a small hole in his award-winning lawn.

"It has a rather chequered past but has other uses now." Draco frowned, leaning heavily once more on the sturdy cane.

Ron wasn't sure Draco was speaking about himself or the beautifully carved wood under his bejewelled fingers.

Silence as both men fidget in each others' company, neither looking directly at the other. Ron spots his son across the garden. He was mock fighting with a blond boy, grinning madly and giggling at some joke Ron is obviously too far away to eavesdrop on.

"Seems my son has made a friend?"

Draco hobbles a little closer, gazing off in the direction of the two boys.

"Yes, it appears so." He states casually. "Only the one then?"

Ron's eyes dart to his, narrowing for a moment before he takes a breath and lets it go slowly.

Draco found he couldn't help falling back into old rhythms in the redhead's presence. Alarming really how easy he found it.

Ron had stiffened, turning sombre eyes back to where his child was making friends with the only child of the schoolyard bully. It's a minute or two before he speaks.

"My wife is sick."

Draco's attention slid from the two children playing, back to Ron. It had taken him so long to answer he'd slipped into a kind of hypnotic trance watching the unbridled joy on his young sons face.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear. I hope she feels better soon." It was only polite to give some kind of apology for being such an arse.

Ron nodded, avoiding looking at him.

There was more silence and Draco knew he should walk away but instead found himself inquiring after Ron's mother, his siblings...are they all well?

"She won't be... getting any better that is. Hermione's dying, ovarian cancer..." Ron trailed off, not wanting to spout a bunch of statistics because surely Malfoy had no desire to know all that and why did he even say anything in the first place.

Draco was stunned. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Could you sound anymore pathetic Malfoy? Surely you can conjure up a more sincere sounding prattle than just a limp wristed 'sorry'. The notch on the noose around his neck marked 'excruciating' had just tightened substantially.

"Grang... Hermione, she's a fighter. I'm certain she'll pull through this battle." And that's what you come up with? It's true you are a pathetic pussy whipped cripple Malfoy.

Draco berated by his inner voice while Ron nodded vigorously, swallowing hard around the dry lump in his throat. Usually he doesn't like talking about personal shite with anyone, not even his parents. Yet he was disturbed by his abrupt need to talk about it with someone now, not to mention baffled as that someone turns out to be Draco Malfoy.

Ron was still nodding rather monotonously now and Draco was exceedingly uncomfortable as it appears if Weasley is going to break down in front of him.

Not that he'd blame him, but oh Merlin... please don't.

Just then the two children rush toward them. Draco, without even thinking, stepped in front of Ron and makes a show of distracting the two so to give the man a chance to compose himself.

"Hello, you two. Having a ball, son? Have you got lots of Easter eggs in your basket? Didn't I tell you at breakfast that the day would be perfect and you doubted me." He babbled, he knew he was babbling and Malfoy's don't rabbit on but then he didn't have much choice.

The redheaded boy hid half behind William's shoulder, peering up at him through huge blue eyes barely recognizable behind ginger bangs that hang over his tiny features. Damn, he looks exactly like his father.

William nudged his friend forward with his shoulder.

"Daddy, this is Michael. He is my best friend; can he stay over, please Daddy please?"

Slinging an arm around Michael's shoulder, he whispered in his ear. "You can meet Mertil; he's a silver crested firedrake, a dragon. I'll let you feed him. He doesn't even bite."

Draco almost laughed at the horrified expression on Ron's face. He recovered with a cough, relieved that the man was not a weepy mess, wiping his nose on his robes.

Ron ignored the mirth on Draco's lips, kneeling down on the damp grass as both boys excitedly show him their stash of Easter eggs. He noted how they had shared equally their find. Both gazing up at him with identical pleading expressions- the cheek, ganging up on him like that.

"Yes, of course. Michael can stay over any time he pleases." Draco interceded before Ron can.

"Yes." he whooped. Michael and William ran around in circles chasing each other until they were dizzy, or was that just the two adults watching them?

"Daddy, can he stay right now? Can he? Can he?" Draco's son shrills breathlessly.

Draco smiled. It's infectious, his son's happiness. He nodded his head.

Ron hated to break his son's heart like this, but he has to nip this in the bud before it spins out of his control.

"Michael not today, we have to go visit mummy in hospital remember?"

The boy instantly looked disappointed, kicking at the grass with his scuffed shoes. He reluctantly turned his big sad eyes on his bestest friend in the whole world.

"I can't my mummies really sick."

William crept closer to his friend and tugged at his sleeve, before slinging an arm around his neck and giving the taller boy a comforting squeeze.

Ron's heart broke knowing his son needed a friend like young William. How ironic that they had made fast friends when his relationship with William's father had been the complete opposite.

He hated to lie to him but... "Sometime soon okay son. We'll arrange a day you can come."

Ron felt like squished Flobberworm under his boot for having just said that, especially when Michael gazed at him like he was the best Daddy on the planet, eyes bright with such hope.

Draco nodded his agreement and Ron didn't know if he wanted to smack him for being so flaming amicable or hug him for it.

Ron had been counting on a child's transient whimsy to smooth over the days to come. But as he looked on painfully as the boy's playfully tussled on the freshly mown grass, he knew many tearful nights were to come because of him accepting his father's invitation.

He'd expected to glare at Draco over shrimp cocktails and champagne flutes... perhaps even come to blows with the man. But not have his son make a close buddy with the son of his enemy. He had not prepared himself for that.

It was time they left.

Draco's arm shot out before him, like he knew what was coming next. "It's been a pleasure to see you again Ron"

Ron hesitated but then clasped the offered hand firmly.

"Likewise Draco, likewise. And thank you for the invite."

Draco nodded.

"Come on son," Ron beckoned. Both men watched as the two boys embraced shyly, pushing playfully at each other as if counteracting their earlier soppiness. It's not like they were icky girls for Merlin's sake.

Ron and Draco locked eyes over their children; it was an innocent peal of laughter that pulled them apart. Both men blushing furiously as they gushed over their respective son's to cover up their embarrassment.

* * *

Ron didn't expect to hear from Draco again. Two days had gone by and Michael had yet to stop pestering him on when he could go and stay with William. Ron had been sidetracking him but knew he'd have to talk to him seriously very soon. He was not at all looking forward to it.

When a registered owl arrived at the Weasley residence, Michael had every reason to be excited.

It was a note from Draco telling him that he hoped he wasn't thumped for being so presumptuous, but he'd arranged for the foremost expert in the muggle _and_ the wizarding world in cancer research to take on Hermione's case exclusively. If there's a cure, he's the man to find it. Not to mention that Michael was expected the following Friday at The Manor, to stay the entire weekend with William.

End.


End file.
